Page 149 - The Houseguest

I wanted to forgive her; I tried it your way.
But she took you from me, and now she must pay.
You do not approve of “an eye for an eye.”
You want her to live -- BUT ALAS, SHE MUST DIE!
I folded my letter and tucked it into my shirt. No need for an envelope or silly bottle. I want my words to disintegrate into the sea, became one with the medium with which my love and I shall connect and communicate. She wrote about the ocean, the sand, the waves. It is where we were wed, where we built a home, so of course it is where we would meet to join our souls again.
I checked in on Rachel and again noticed that she was pale. I wondered now if she’d lost too much blood when she forfeited her finger. Regardless, I had to get my letter on its way. Walking out to the spot where I released their cremains, I walked out into the water as far as my head. I slowly released my letter into the water and watched it bob on top of the waves as it slowly began to absorb the water. I followed the paper until it disappeared from my view, knowing it was probably already permeating the invisible barrier between us. Karina would be absorbing my thoughts soon.
I walked back to the beach house, and for the first time I recognized that I was growing weary of the routine. When I entered the Inspiration Room, I saw Rachel sitting up reading Karina’s book of prose. Progress! “I see you have come to your senses,” I said. I was actually relieved that I wouldn’t have to inflict more pain on her today. Perhaps I was becoming weak, or maybe Karina had gotten through to me.
149
The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life